


blue bloods, their death by dawn

by lazulila



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26577949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulila/pseuds/lazulila
Summary: In the dark of Fhirdiad's nights, the shadows come alive.Felix is used to facing them alone, their numbers spread thin over the growing number of claws that lash out from the shadows. The higher ups decide he needs some help.For Sylvix week prompt: Urban fantasy
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	blue bloods, their death by dawn

With one last shrill, haunting howl, the beast goes down, slumping to its side. Even from this distance, hidden behind a maze of decrepit warehouses, the city lights are strong enough to set its dripping blue blood eerily aglow.

While it heaves its last breaths, wet and struggling, Felix slowly, carefully, dislodges his blade from its flank, his heels still dug into its armored, scaly skin where he’s crouched atop it.

Blue spurts from the blow that had proven fatal, more blood sliding from the sword’s edges, down to its tapered point to splatter across the concrete when he hops down.

Small droplets of sweat gather at his temple, sticking stray pieces of hair to his flushed skin. He’s still panting as he wipes them off, throat dry and chest threatening to burst as he draws out a rag to wipe the weapon down with. The bottom of his sneakers grind on grit and loose gravel as he carefully backs away from it, knowing not to let his guard down until it draws its last.

A sudden whistle sends a jolt skittering down the back of his neck like a cold breeze, and he turns to see someone emerging from the adjacent alleyway.

“You took that thing out by yourself? No easy feat.”

Tall, dark suited, red hair aflame in fluorescent, artificial glamor, the man raises one hand in a casual wave. Slowly, carefully, though he makes it seem nonchalant. Calculated steps masquerade as a lazy stride as he draws nearer.

A telltale blue lanyard dangles from his belt, the badge tucked carefully into his pocket. He’s one of their own, then. Still, it’s not assuring enough to make him drop his guard, not yet; Felix doesn’t recognize him.

“Felix, right? They sent me straight after you. Barely even got my ID picture taken before I was being shoved out the door.”

A sharp crackle from the beast’s body captures both their attention. Black veins web out from each leaking wound, smoke beginning to rise from the quickly disintegrating flesh, drying and crumbling to ash. Snapping and popping as it decays, as though the dying embers of a fire. Give a few more minutes, and it’ll be nothing more than a dark stain on city pavement.

“So you just stood by and watched me fight the thing?” Felix snips, double checking the sword before sliding it back into the sheath strapped to his back.

“Hey, I just _got_ here.” The man says lightly, with a short laugh to go with it. “Besides, you obviously had it under control. Dispatch wanted me to back you up in case you needed it.”

“They really had no one else to send?”

“They really didn’t, so you got stuck with me. Sorry.”

Unfortunately, that’s believable. Attacks have been both more frequent and more vicious recently, and even if the shadow demon he was sent after technically should have had two, maybe three agents on it, he’d been assigned to the mission alone. His dispatcher had called him directly, nervous, asking if he really wanted to take it alone, and he would talk to the officer in charge if Felix protested…

They’re spread thin.

“And you are?”

Holding one gloved hand out, he smiles. It’s as bright and artificial as the storefronts in the financial district, all white teeth and dark corners.

“Sylvain. Just transferred from the northern branch. And, also, your new partner.”

Felix regards the outstretched hand with a wary glance. It speaks to a sort of formality not often seen in this metropolis of steel and asphalt. Here, there’s as much space between the people as there is between stars in the sky, despite how they may be crammed in as close as the high rise buildings of the downtown.

The northern branch must have it easy, to be so relaxed. No wonder they had people to spare to Fhirdiad.

“You already know my name.” Felix says curtly, and pulls out his phone instead, unlocking its glowing screen to check in with dispatch. To let them know that between him and his target, he’s the one still breathing.

Sylvain doesn’t seem all that put off by the rebuff, and instead slides his hand into his slacks pocket.

‘Ah, yes. Felix Fraldarius, class B, rank 8. Director said you might be a class A by now, if you ever learned to play nice with others.”

“Well, my director should shut his mouth.” Felix replies dryly without even bothering to look up from his phone, and Sylvain bursts into a laugh.

Of course Dimitri would warn Sylvain that Felix is _hard to get along with._ After all, _they_ haven’t in years.

“He seems like a good enough guy.”

“He’s not.”

Sylvain blinks a little at that, laugh cut short at the throat.

“...That so?”

Felix doesn’t answer, and the question drifts away, with the last of the deathly curl of vapor from the beast’s bones.

Pulling up the radar on the company’s app, it looks like there’s more activity than usual tonight. They’re the only agents on the south side by the warehouse district, and it’s barely midnight. They’ll probably send him on at least one other job before the sun rises.

“You in the system yet?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain affirms, “Though I probably won’t show up until the system refresh tomorrow, according to Bernie.”

Still, he does appear listed as Felix’s officially assigned partner on his profile, as he sourly notes.

**_Sylvain Gautier: Class C Rank 2_ ** ****_  
_**** **_Northern Faerghus Branch_ ** **_  
_** **** ****_Designation: Combat_

His information is still blank, picture an anonymous gray circle. His new headquarters and the rest of his intel won’t show up until tomorrow evening, probably.

It tells him, at least, that he’s not a rookie. He’ll have been an agent for at least a few years by now.

“....So,” Sylvain drawls, “What do we do now?”

“Nothing, until we’re off the clock or another mission comes through.” Felix cuts him a sharp look. “Same as being on duty anywhere else. Try not to ask stupid questions.”

“Well, I’ll try, but no promises.”

They make their way out of the cramped labyrinth between the buildings, back towards the brightly lit avenues and crowds treading down the streets.

Neon and glitter, bright lights and hidden shadows; steel poles and flat pavement. Car horns and music blasting from open shops. High heels clicking, phones ringing, laughter from all directions, blurring in with the smeared colors of passersby.

Felix doesn’t slow his pace for Sylvain, whose longer legs mostly make up the difference between them. He easily swerves between people, hops over a railing to cross a street before the streetlight blinks red, Sylvain hurrying after him.

“Sorry, I gotta follow you.” He says at the next stop light. “Until I have access to the system, I can’t receive any communications.”

“I _know_ that.”

“Maybe slow down a little for me, then?”

“Why don’t you hurry up.” Felix says instead, and steps from the curb, Sylvain making some indignant choked noise before trailing behind him.

“Oof. You _are_ an unpleasant sort.”

But he doesn’t sound annoyed, instead chiming too cheerily, from _way_ too close over his shoulder.

“Well,” Felix reminds him, smooth and cold as ice, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

It sounds like Sylvain might be about to say something in retort, but a sudden blaring from his phone stops it before it starts.

Felix punches in the pin with his thumb as they continue to walk, and brings up the alert from the company’s app.

As predicted, another mission. In the northern area of the city this time, it looks like.

Abruptly ducking into a side street, blissfully dark against the violently shining backdrop that’s the rest of Fhirdiad, Felix glances over the details. And tries not to bristle too much when Sylvain leans in to look, even though having someone so _near_ is enough to raise the hair along the back of his neck.

Sylvain hums as he reads from Felix’s side, breathing out, “Level 3, huh? Guess it was too much to ask for to get an easy first night.”

“Stop griping.” Felix punches in his code again to accept. “The beast I fought before was level 3, and I handled it alone.”

“Well, now you have help.” Sylvain shrugs, a crooked grin sliding across his mouth. “I’ll be of whatever assistance I can.”

“Just don’t get in the way.”

“That still counts, I guess.”

Felix scoffs, and then takes off without warning back out onto the busy sidewalk, towards Eighth and Bridgewater Avenue, where they’ll rendezvous with company transport, that’ll bring them to the mission site.

Sylvain’s following him, of course, his heavy boots announcing every footfall as he closes in.

He’s annoying, Felix has decided. And a level 3 isn’t something to play around with.

There’s no telling how useful Sylvain will actually be in the field, and this isn’t one to mess around and find out on. Which means he can’t rely on him, which means he’s essentially alone, anyway.

“Just don’t die.”

Sylvain laughs.

“I’ll try.”

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god they were partners.
> 
> it's 5am so i'm sorry for any fuckups on my part.
> 
> i listened to a lot of the psycho pass and nier:automata osts while drawing and writing this hahahahhaa
> 
> woo hoo, art: https://twitter.com/_lazulila/status/1307969077806280705


End file.
